


bring on the tidal wave

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, filed under it's midnight and i'm insomniac
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it was after liam and harry dragged him out of his cocoon that he’s seated in a dodgy nightclub, nursing a stale glass of water and rubbing his palm against the denim of his jeans, that he finally broke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bring on the tidal wave

**Author's Note:**

> hehe. uhm, first official work. my name's sacridy and writing is bad for your health.

chapter one  
›››››››››

> it was after liam and harry dragged him out of his cocoon that he’s seated in a dodgy nightclub, nursing a stale glass of water and rubbing his palm against the denim of his jeans, that he finally broke.
> 
> after moping around their shared flat— _whatever_ —and wallowing in self-pity, lirry had had enough of louis’s constant moaning and groaning about _un_ true love, and how _stan was the one, i knew it_ and _celine dion, take me away_ that they didn’t know what to do but pulled him here.
> 
> the two bastards parked him up at the bar, ordered two beers for themselves, and practically missiled onto the dance floor. before louis could say something, they’re gone and he’s alone and he’s ordering a coke but the barman gave him a water and louis thought, okay, doesn’t matter. 
> 
> he’s pushing the glass away, waits for the loud crash—but it never came—and he’s storming out of the club, into the decrepit atmosphere of old london. he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know where to go—but his feet are leading him somewhere, _anywhere_ and he lets them because he’s too miserable and hurt.
> 
> it’s a mile later, that he’s breaking down in rundown alley with domiciles of crates and termite-eaten kegs and he’s kicking them and throwing and hitting the wall because _ilovedhimilovedhimilovedhim_. it’s afterwards that he’s tired and heartbroken and vulnerable and his knuckles are bruised and bleeding and there’s splinters in his palms and he can’t do anything but ceremoniously slide against the wall and cry into his forearms.
> 
> ultimately, he’s sad. he’s so heartbreakingly sad that he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know why he’s here, doesn’t know why his hands feel numb. and then _oh_ , because the pile of broken craters lay at his feet and suddenly everything’s rushing back to him in reverse.
> 
> broken craters, stale water, liam and harry banging on his door, stan kissing him goodbye forever. and it hurts. it hurts _so fucking much_ that he just wants to scream _so fucking loud_ and he doesn’t realize he already is because car alarms are going off and people have their heads stuck out their windows and someone may be calling for police.
> 
> he’s distracted for a while— _from the pain, from the numbness, from the car alarms_ —because his phone is ringing and there’s this slight glint of hope that it’s stan wanting him back but no, it’s liam and _is he alright_ and _louis, where the fuck are you_ and _don’t fuck anything up_.
> 
> and he just hangs up because he’s had enough of liam—has had enough of _everyone_ and he just wants to be alone for once.
> 
> he’s looking down, hair all messed up and curtaining around his face and suddenly his fingernails are really interesting and totally distracting him from stan. 
> 
> there’s a nudge at his foot, and he’s saying “liam leave me alone,” a little too harshly but also a little too softly. but liam’s not moving, and oh those aren't not liam’s shoes. so he’s looking up, and in such a revolting, disgusting way—he might have stopped breathing. 


End file.
